


and if you would call me your sweetheart

by ivyalexandrias



Category: The Magnus Archives (Podcast)
Genre: Abandoned Work - Unfinished and Discontinued, Alternate Universe - Everyone Lives/Nobody Dies, Alternate Universe - High School, Alternate Universe - No Powers, Gen, M/M, No beta we die like archival assistants, Running Away, Trans Gerard Keay, Trans Jonathan "Jon" Sims | The Archivist, eventual jongerry, i am so homeschooled it's PAINFUL, so sorry for any discrepancies when it comes to jons schooling, tags will be updated as fic progresses, the dasira is only in the background sorry gays, theyre both trans and bi and nd. because i can do what i WANT fuck you, title from mama by mcr because of course it is
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-10-20
Updated: 2020-10-20
Packaged: 2021-03-09 02:27:44
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,272
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27116783
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ivyalexandrias/pseuds/ivyalexandrias
Summary: Jon stalks over to the window, tripping over a boot that he left in the middle of his floor at some point, and flings open the window. "What do you want, Gerry." He snaps, not even having to look at the other boy to know who it is. "We have school in," He glances at the clock, and internally groans. "Four hours.""Run away with me." Gerry deadpans, and Jon stops, staring at him blankly. The other boy climbs in through the open window, startlingly graceful, until his foot catches on the sill, and he faceplants onto Jon's floor with an alarmingly loud thump.
Relationships: Basira Hussain/Alice "Daisy" Tonner (background), Gerard Keay/Jonathan "Jon" Sims | The Archivist
Comments: 6
Kudos: 50





	and if you would call me your sweetheart

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> me: has two other tma fics  
> me: but what if... jongerry highschool au

Jon wakes up to the sound of someone knocking on his window. He groans, fumbling for his glasses where they sit on his nightstand, haphazardly putting them on as he swings his legs out of bed. The knocking doesn't stop, and he throws the nearest object he can find (a glasses case) at the window. It hits with a  _ thunk _ , and the knocking pauses for a moment, before resuming. 

Jon stalks over to the window, tripping over a boot that he left in the middle of his floor at some point, and flings open the window. "What do you  _ want _ , Gerry." He snaps, not even having to look at the other boy to know who it is. "We have school in," He glances at the clock, and internally groans. "Four hours."

"Run away with me." Gerry deadpans, and Jon stops, staring at him blankly. The other boy climbs in through the open window, startlingly graceful, until his foot catches on the sill, and he faceplants onto Jon's floor with an alarmingly loud thump. Jon makes frantic hand gestures at him, knowing full well that if his grandmother wakes up and finds Gerry, they're both dead meat. 

Predictably, Gerry ignores him, climbing to his feet, and waving his (somehow) still lit cigarette in Jon's face. Jon snatches it out of his hand, ignoring the other boy's grumbling as he stubs it out in the ashtray he keeps on his desk specifically for this reason. "Gerry, are you  _ drunk?  _ Am I hallucinating? There's no way you just asked me to run away with you." 

Gerry snorts, lighting another cigarette, holding it above his head so Jon can't steal it. "No. I asked you. I'll say it again, too. Run away with me. I have my dad's old truck, I know how to drive it-"

"No you  _ don't _ ." Jon points out.

"-I have my permit, I can drive-"

"I will never get into a car with you behind the wheel." 

" _ Anyways _ . I can drive, I have money, I know where I want to go. I want you to come with me." Gerry finishes, taking a long drag of his cigarette. Jon splutters, unable to form words for a moment.

"I- uh- why  _ me _ ? I mean, you could have asked Basira, or Daisy, or Tim. Or, really, anyone other than me, I am literally the worst choice here, Gerry." The goth shrugs, sitting on his desk chair, pushing off of the floor with one foot so he lazily spins around on the seat.

"You're my friend. Plus, you look like a 10 year old, which means good at convincing people we're not doing anything illegal. Which would be helpful, because I'll probably do some illegal things." He pauses. "Also, your grandma fucking sucks. Everyone else has a good home life, so they wouldn't want to leave." Jon sighs, running a hand through his messy hair. 

"I- fuck- okay. When are you leaving? Now?" Gerry laughs, shaking his head.

"Nah, tomorrow night. Mom has a business thing, doesn't get back till Thursday afternoon. Plenty of time to leave, y'know?" He shrugs, exhaling smoke gently, and Jon waves the cloud away from his face, still slightly annoyed that Gerry woke him up for this. 

"Fuck, I cannot believe I am even considering this. Can you, like, give me a day? Because like, even if I did say yes- and that's a big  _ if _ ." He adds, because Gerry's face immediately lights up triumphantly. " _ If  _ I decide to go, I still have to pack, and say bye to my friends, and- and stuff." Gerry nods slowly, blowing a misshapen smoke ring, pointing when Jon swipes his hand through it.

"Sure, man. I gotta pack too. I'll uh- come back tomorrow night, then? Sound good?" Jon sighs, shaking his head to himself. 

"God, you are impossible. Yes, I'll have decided by tomorrow night. Now, can you  _ please  _ leave me alone. Some of us have normal fucking sleep cycles, and I have a test tomorrow." He grumbles, and Gerry pumps his fist in the air, grinning.

"Alright, I'll swing 'round here tomorrow night. Get your beauty rest, pretty boy." He stands, taking one last drag off his cigarette before depositing it in the ashtray. Jon rolls his eyes, walking over to shut the window behind him. 

"Don't trip on your way down, please. I don't want to be a suspect in your murder if I didn't commit it."

"Mhm, sure thing." Gerry clambers through the open window, blowing Jon a kiss before starting to climb back down the lattice below his window. Jon just flips him off, shutting the window. He turns his lamp off, replacing his glasses on the nightstand before attempting to go back to sleep. 

-

Jon doesn't succeed in falling back asleep despite his best attempts, and is out of bed the second his alarm rings. He pulls on an old sweater he got from the thrift store in town, some jeans that are marginally less dirty than the rest of the pile, socks off the top of his basket, and the boots that he'd tripped over last night. 

As usual, he does a check before going downstairs. Homework finished? Check. Phone charged and in his pocket? Check. Backpack closed? Check. Satisfied he has everything he needs, Jon creeps downstairs, keeping his steps light as to not wake his grandmother, who usually sleeps till noon, at least.

Breakfast consists of a slightly squishy banana and some lukewarm toast, because he doesn't have the time to wait for the ancient toaster to cook it all the way, and he hasn't been grocery shopping in a little while. He grabs his student ID off the counter, where it sits on a lanyard along with his spare set of house keys. He checks the clock, and sighs in relief. Six o'clock, still time to get on the bus. 

He slings his backpack fully over his shoulders, scarfing down the rest of his banana before tossing the peel in the garbage, and heads out. It's a bit of a walk to where the bus picks him up, and he always enjoys the chill of the early morning. 

He ends up sitting on the back of the bus, next to Basira, who gets on at the same time he does. They nod at him, apparently too tired to form coherent words, and he returns the gesture. After a few minutes, though, she speaks. "You look like hell."

"Mm, thanks. Gerry woke me up at, like, 2 am. Asked me to, get this, run away with him." Basira chokes on her spit, and they almost cough up a lung before managing to get themselves under control. 

"I'm sorry, he  _ what?  _ Jon, you can't just  _ say  _ that?" She sputters, and Jon laughs. 

"I know, I'm sorry. He said he was leaving tonight, wants me to come with him. He didn't say it specifically, but I think he's running away to his dad's." Basira's mouth opens in a silent 'o', and they nod.

"Okay, I get that. Still doesn't explain why he wants you to come, though. I mean, no offense, but you're not exactly the 'runaway' type, y'know?" Jon nods empathetically, eyes wide.

"That's what I said! He didn't listen though. Said we both have shitty home lives, or something. Which, I mean, he has a point, but still." Basira shakes her head, sighing.

"What'd you say?" Jon shrugs, pulling his legs underneath him so he's sitting cross legged on the seat.

"Told him to give me a bit to decide. He's coming back to harass me again tonight before he leaves, I gotta decide before then." Jon pauses as Daisy approaches them, leaning down to give Basira a quick kiss on the lips before sprawling out across both their laps, legs draped over Jon's, head in Basira's lap. "Hey, what're we talking about?"

"Jon's running away with Gerry." 

"Oh, hell yeah. Get it, Jon." Daisy grins at him, and Jon makes a wordless noise of frustration, gesturing vaguely.

"I haven't said  _ yes _ yet! I'm still thinking about it! I mean, it's a big decision, you know." Daisy shrugs, the motion dislodging Basira's hand, which had come to rest on her shoulder.

"You're fucking boring, Jon. Besides, I already know you're gonna say yes. You have the hots for Gerry, you're totally gonna run away with him." Jon flushes red, smacking her on the knee.

"I do not have the  _ hots  _ for him! I may think he's cool, but I don't have a crush on him, Jesus Christ. Besides, like I said, I need to think about it. I might, yeah, but I might not."

"I'll say it again.  _ You're fucking boring, Jon. _ Basira, tell Jon he's boring." Basira snorts, her eyes sparkling.

"Jon, you're boring." He laughs, flipping them off, and Basira smacks his hand away. Jon smiles for a moment longer, before sobering.

"Seriously, though, can I ask you two not to tell the others? I don't know if I'm going, and I don't want them breathing down my necks about it. You can say something tomorrow, you'll know what I chose depending on whether or not I show up to school, but please stay quiet today?" Basira and Daisy both nod, expressions serious.

"Yeah, of course, Jon. Lips sealed. Won't say a word." Jon smiles gratefully, and although they talk about other things, he can't stop thinking about what he wants to do.

-

By the end of the school day, he's made his decision. He doesn't tell Daisy or Basira as much, even when they try to interrogate him on the way home. He just dodges their questions, only responding with 'maybe', or 'I don't know'. 

When he gets home, his grandmother is in front of the TV, and he waves at her as he heads upstairs, but she has no response. Jon sighs, and walks up the stairs, shutting the door to his room behind him once he gets inside. For once, he doesn't sit down and immediately start on his homework. Instead, he tosses it in the trash, and starts folding clothes, shoving them in his backpack. 

He only takes what's necessary, though he can't resist grabbing an old sweatshirt Sasha had bought him, with a pattern like a bowling alley carpet, in the colors of the bisexual flag. Once his clothes are packed in the largest pocket, he moves to shoving some art supplies in the second, slightly smaller one, along with a couple of books for him to read, and his earbuds. He supposes it can't hurt to be prepared. 

The third pocket he reserves purely for his binders and a small first aid kit. He's already wearing one of his binders, but he likes to keep extra, just in case. The final pocket is where he'll stuff his phone when he leaves, since it's the perfect size. When he's done, he sets his backpack down on his bed heavily, and sighs.

"Fuck, am I really doing this?" He mumbles out loud to himself, shaking his head. "This is crazy. What if we get pulled over? What if Gerry- what if he crashes the car, and we die, and no one finds our bodies, and-" 

"Jesus fucking Christ, Jon, what the fuck are these hypotheticals." Gerry's voice comes from his window, and Jon yelps, spinning. Gerry crouches outside, grinning. Jon wasn't even aware it was night, but a cursory glance at his clock reveals that it's already 9pm. He sighs, relaxing slightly.

"Fuck, you scared me." He grumbles, unplugging his phone and tossing it in the backpack.

"Sorry," Gerry says, clearly not sorry at all. "I assume you're coming, then." He gestures at Jon's bag, and he nods.

"Uh, yeah. I am. Coming. Yeah." He nods decisively, as if that fixes the way he just royally fumbled over his words. Gerry, mercifully, doesn't comment on it, just gestures for him to follow, and Jon does, slinging the backpack over his shoulder as he does.

Gerry scrambles down the side of the house with alarming ease, and Jon follows much more hesitantly. The goth waits for him at the bottom, taking his hand as soon as both feet are on the ground, and tugging him along.

"Come on, the truck's this way." Jon allows himself to be dragged behind Gerry, dutifully ignoring the anxiety in his stomach as they near Gerry's house. The other boy only releases him so he can open the garage door, revealing an old truck. Jon raises a skeptical eyebrow, but doesn't say anything.

Gerry climbs in, turning the key in the ignition, and the truck rumbles to life. Belatedly, Jon realizes he should get in as well, and follows suit. He puts his backpack in the back seat, next to what he assumes is Gerry's bag. Gerry grins at him, brown eyes glinting in the light from the headlights. "Ready to leave this city behind?" He asks, and Jon hesitantly nods.

"Sure, I guess." Gerry punches him lightly in the shoulder, shifting the truck into drive, and pulling out of the garage. The grin doesn't leave his face as they get to the edge of town, and further. Jon twists in his seat to look behind them, the faint lights of the small town grow smaller and dimmer as they draw further away.

He can't find it in himself to feel bad about leaving. He'll miss his friends, sure, but he won't miss the place itself. Gerry sits beside him in the driver's seat, singing along to whatever rock song is playing on the shitty old radio, and Jon turns back around, looking forwards instead.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i am. painfully american and painfully homeschooled!! so, this is set in america (jon and gerry live in the midwest in this), and gerry is homeschooled, because if i have to do any research on what public schools are like i will literally go insane.

**Author's Note:**

> come find me on tumblr @/mike--crew!


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